Sad Stories Rip Life Open

“I am responsible. Although I may not be able to prevent the worst from happening, I am responsible for my attitude toward the inevitable misfortunes that darken life. Bad things do happen; how I respond to them defines my character and the quality of my life. I can choose to sit in perpetual sadness, immobilized by the gravity of my loss, or I can choose to rise from the pain and treasure the most precious gift I have – life itself.” ~ Walter Anderson

I am compelled to write tonight.

I've had many things swirling around my heart and mind over the last several months. Most of them just partial thoughts or random musings, some of them reaching so deep, it's hard to breathe when I attempt to put them in writing.

I was going to write tonight a bit more about my grandma, her dementia and what it's been like to slowly watch it take hold of her ... and maybe I can talk about it a little bit.

But I also have a friend who is battling cancer ... well, two friends really. One of them is really sick right now, another former co-worker of mine just lost her mom and I guess tonight, I'm just having one of those nights where I have never felt so helpless.

Yet at the same time, I acutely feel the power of life, the universe, the cycle of everything and how incredibly hard it is to "let go," to live and feel life in our veins even during the times we want to cry ... the times when it feels like our whole world is crashing down around us.

It's this paradoxical moment, where you feel both entirely powerless and despondent yet completely, even painfully alive at the same time. You feel like you just want to run from those feelings, from the fears they trigger, but running has never solved anything. And I think, practicing being present, living each moment as though it is THE moment, your ONLY moment, is how we finally relinquish those fears and are truly able to live our lives fully and transparently, letting all emotion in and out, without any barriers or webs to trap them in.

Because once you trap emotions, or resist reality, you create negative emotions that cloud the mind and will eventually manifest in other ways.

So, my reality is ... I am terrified of my grandma losing her memories, losing herself, losing ...

I am scared of my friends being sick and what could happen. I'm scared of Lakota regressing, of him going downhill and never coming back again, of the day I have to part ways with him and Bella and other people in my life. I'm scared of death. I've always been scared of death.

And it's something that, I think as I continue to grow, as I continue down this path of Yoga and meditation, self discovery, transformation, etc., I will begin to chip away at that fear, like all my fears.

But right now, I can feel it gripping me at night, the way it used to when I was a child. Luckily, I've gotten to the point now where I can "be the watcher" as Eckhart Tolle says or as my yoga guru called it, "the witness" to my mind. I watch my thoughts and where they go and most times, I can calmly bring them back to my breath. But that fear will keep coming until I overcome it, just like others.

The reality is, people get sick, some people leave us earlier than we would like, some people lose themselves, some people transform and change and we don't want them to. So many things are constantly in motion and a lot of times our fears make us want them to remain in place.

One thing I've realized with my grandma is ... while she's "in there" always, even the days when she seems far away, I think oftentimes its everyone else, including myself, that is more affected with her losing her memories and her "story" than she is. In fact, in a lot of ways, she's becoming more and more "present" with her living than most of us ever get to be. More and more, it's becoming about her experience with the people she's with and interacting with than what is actually done or said during that time (which she will forget soon after).

She responds to the way I make her feel when I walk into the room, how "present" I am with her and what energy I'm exuding (is it love, compassion, calm, peace, care, respect ... or is it frustration, sadness, anxiety or anger). She can pick up on it right away, even now. And those are the things that matter to her ... and they're the very things that SHOULD matter to all of us, when we aren't in our analytical, memory hugging, compulsive minds.

If we were only more present, more in tune with the energy we put out at all moments of the day, more responsible for the energy we bring into any given situation, the world would be a very different place.

And what's more? It makes me realize just how attached we all are to our "stories," to all the chatter and sentiment and meaning our minds weave around every experience we have, all the good memories and the bad, how we often define ourselves by these stories and harken back to them every chance we get, how we use our stories to rationalize things, to explain things, as a crutch, or as an ego-boost, as a reason why this or that is the way it is.

Watching my grandma lose her memory makes me realize that yes, it is important to honor my own memories and my mind's ability to recall them ... but it's also important to let go of the stories, to cherish the present moment and to home in on what energy I'm offering those around me rather than worry about all that mind chatter and dialogue.

And those who are battling illness, or have lost loved ones ... they remind me that yes, I am scared, I am not immune to fear or so enlightened that I have surpassed fear itself. Fear still cripples me some days. And that's OK, because fear is just a guiding post to truth. And life is sacred, it's precious and it can change on a dime. Our bodies won't always be here, but our energy has the power to transform, to fuel, and to move on.

So, don't waste that energy on anger, frustration, irritation, fear ... don't waste that precious life energy some people — especially those who are sick — are losing more and more of on resentment or the past, the storytelling, etc.

Instead, lets practice gratitude, every second of the day, for every breath we take and those we love, the pets in our lives, the moments of laughter and joy, the amenities we have that some people never have, the support systems in our lives, the way nature smells, the way the air feels ...

Because it's not our stories that define who we are.

It's how we live.

~C~

Life Can Change in a Blink. But Are You Even Living?

Life ... it's this fickle, beautiful, devastating, wonderful, awe-inspiring, heart-wrenching, fleeting thing.

It's so hard to pin down and just when you think you've got it defined, that you have it within your grasp once and for all, it somehow evades you, leaving a wisp of smoke in its wake.

Lately, I've been reminded in quite a few ways just how precious this thing we call life is. It's not really a thing ... it's a state of being. It's "being." But how often are we truly being? How often are we really living?

Most days, we are living in the mind chatter of the ego ... caught up in the drama, the pain, the past, the future, the worry, the doubts, fears, grievances, resentments, anger, love, passion, highs, lows, offenses, obsessions, fixations, indifferences, cares, reactions, judgements, comparisons, sadness and giddiness of the mind-made world we live in. It's almost madness when you think about it.

We are all over social media, our phones, the TVs, video games, ear buds, iPods, work, stress, work, stress. We are mindless droids some days and overly anxious, scared, passionate, emotional, irrational humans the next. We are amazing creatures, the capabilities we have, yet we still take for granted all that we have to offer the planet, the universe, the moment.

I guess, in seeing most recently, just how fragile life can be, just how quickly it can change, I realize how pointless the above worries, extreme emotions, fixations, ego chatter, etc. really is in the grand scheme of life.

All of that distracts us from the very act of living. And living is going on all around us ALL the time, if only we tapped into it more. It's shown in nature every moment of the day. It's shown in our pets, in those few moments of completely present awareness when we feel our actual bodies living, when we step back and just exist without trying.

I guess what I'm saying is ... all those cliches about living each moment as though it was your last, stopping to smell the roses, seizing the day, living in the moment, etc., those have become cliches for a reason ... because so many humans have stumbled upon these realizations over and over again in the history of our existence and expressed them in one form or another that they've sadly become redundant and lost their staggering power.

Those mantras lose their power until that very moment, when you're life does, indeed, flash before you, when something does drastically change either personally or to someone close to you, bringing you face to face with your mortality (at least your body and mind's mortality). And my question to myself and all of you is, WHY do we wait until something "happens" to embrace this wisdom we've held within us our whole lives, that has been passed down to us by our former human ancestors?

Why do we let our minds run the show and distract us from truly living each day to its fullest as they say?

I can't answer those questions for you ... I'm still working on them for myself. But what I do know is, continuous practice of present moment awareness, using my compasses (like Lakota and Bella, nature, yoga, meditation, my breath, my heartbeat) to bring me back to that place whenever I can, that's going to be the key to me living more and more fully. Because time is, indeed, moving. We are aging. Life is happening.

And the only thing there truly ever is ... is the present.

~C~

Inspiration Incarnate

As I sit here, in my parents' living room — my childhood home — the indoor porch is open, birds are singing and I'm brewing tea in the kitchen.

It's the first warm, sunny day in awhile. It finally feels like Spring has arrived after a very long, very brutal winter ... the kind of winter that made me actually wonder a few times if it would ever be warm again.

Today reminded me yes, it will be. It is. And nothing is ever permanent.

My dog Lakota is teaching me once more. I'm not sure he even knows it. He hurt himself a week and a half ago — a herniated disk — and can no longer walk on his own. At least not now. Surgery was the farthest thing from my mind when my parents and I took him to the emergency vet. In the days that followed, like bread crumbs, I was lead down a path that took me to a crossroads: Surgery (costly surgery) or therapy that isn't looking promising considering the degree of his nerve damage.

Without getting into all of the details, I opted for surgery. I had to know I gave him the best chance I could. You see ... Lakota isn't just a dog. He isn't just a companion animal I've cared for all these nine years. Sure, he offers me unconditional love, loyalty, friendship and protection.

Those things alone are worth giving him his best shot. But he's much more than just those things. Lakota is a soul mate, a guide, he's a teacher, a best friend, a piece of heaven meant to remind me what life is all about, that life is happening in the moment, that the present moment is truly all we've got.

He is inspiration incarnate.

I know, if I'm lucky enough, privileged enough ... blessed enough to have him in my life a few more years, there will come a time when he will move on to the next realm — from form to the formless, as Eckhard Tolle calls it.

But that's then. This is now. And right now, I'm hopeful that with enough patience, enough positive energy, work, therapy, love and care, Lakota will walk again.

Where am I going with all of this? I guess ... I'm not quite sure yet. The entire experience has been transforming. Over a week ago, I was stressing about over committing myself to too many things, having way too busy a schedule to stop and take life in the way I need to to stay grounded in myself, to stay true to myself. I was trying to prioritize everything and fitting walks in with L where I could. I was trying to enjoy my time with him more, having a strange feeling something would be changing soon ... I just didn't know what.

And just like that, everything did. My life changed. I can no longer just drop everything and leave. I can no longer just flutter around from this engagement to that. Will it always be this way? Of course not. But I'm learning to accept what is. To work in tandem with what is ... with the present moment and situation. To resist it, longing for some future, better moment, is living in the mind and in illusion. And that's not living at all.

Sure, to some people, it's "just a dog." And I get that. However, I don't have children. So to me, Lakota is my heart. He and Bella have been through quite a few chapters of my life ... very big ones. And what this reminds me of is, nothing in life is permanent. So, nothing should ever be taken for granted.

I'm sure I'll continue to learn more, and share it here ... but all I know is, what happened to Lakota brought some MAJOR fears to the surface for me that I thought I'd buried or, quite frankly, overcome. The fear of losing those I love. The fear of being out of control.  The fear of being alone. The fear of the unknown. The fear of the dark. The fear of what the future will bring.

And instead of doing everything I could to get away from those feelings, I stayed with them. I breathed through them. I cried, I fought with my mind, my ego, I fought through sleepless nights, a suppressed appetite, depression ... I continued to view all the things I felt from a lens that was almost in the background of it all, like the awareness behind the emotions. And all those fears, I worked through them one by one, plunging into the dark without a candle, feeling my way back to the light of each tunnel.

Instead of crying, "Why him? Why us?" I went inward and asked what it is I can learn from this. What is the lesson, what is the teacher ... what is the challenge, because I'm open. I'm utterly terrified, but I'm open.

And one of the biggest things I found ... faith, hope and an overwhelming response from people I did NOT expect. I thanked people over and over again for their responses, for their private messages, for their understanding, for making me feel less alone. Yet, I don't think I can quite express right now how much all of that impacted me. I was in deep at that moment when I reached out and needed some help back to the surface. And all of that support lead me there.

So to all of those who reached back — thank you, from the bottom of my heart <3

I suddenly have a deeper appreciation for the hardships of others, for those who have to be caretakers, for those who have heavy burdens in their lives they struggle with day to day. Not that Lakota is a burden. He isn't. But I appreciate the people who do sacrifice for those they love.

Because, if Lakota can go through what he went through. I can go through this with him. And every day, he inspires me. He reminds me of what love is, every time I look into his gentle brown eyes.

And so, my life has slowed down. It's grown very simple in a matter of a week. And I'm OK with that. Because I know if I go with it, rather than resist it, I will gain so much more than I ever would otherwise. And anything else that seemed so important to get to before ... no longer does.

After all ... as the quote goes: "Finding myself through process of elimination." ~Jonathan Stefiuk

Love,

~C~

Do Only a Few Things and Do Them Well

Beware lest you lose the substance by grasping at the shadow. ~ Aesop

There are a few good quotes on this topic, but it's one that's been on my mind of late so I figured, it's time to sit down and write about it.

As most of my close friends and family know, I've recently LLC'ed myself as a yoga instructor. My business name is now Luna Sidera Yoga & Wellness, LLC. Or, in English, Moon and Stars Yoga & Wellness.

This isn't a self promotion piece, but rather, the example that I want to tie into the above quote and my present challenge — Focusing.

A little bit of context ....

I am a full-time journalist/editor of three papers. I am also trying to get my novel published by a small local printing press. In the meantime, I teach Yoga in Wickliffe and am about to start a class in Willoughby in addition to wanting to get certification in Reiki Therapy to supplement what I offer my clientele, a.k.a. my students. I eventually want to take the 500 hour training to be able to teach Yoga Therapy in hospitals and rehabilitation centers.

Those things are all in addition to a wonderfully flourishing social/personal life and a mom of two pet kids ;-) as well as someone who desires to spend more time with family, especially my grandparents (in particular my grandmother, who is slowly losing her memory).

I recently read an article that summed up 600 letters/emails from random people ages 37 and up about what they would tell their 30-year-old selves if they could go back. Among all the items listed, one was to focus on doing a few things well, rather than doing several things half as well ... or something along those lines.

Basically, narrow your focus and put all your energy there. That one really hit me hardest — I suppose because that's been my biggest struggle lately. I feel like parts of my life are really taking off in the recent months. And a lot of it has to do with me deciding to stop resting on my laurels and finally get moving on my teaching and expanding my reach.

But I've also really, really been struggling with NOT focusing on publishing my manuscript, the way I wanted to last year. Yoga took me in a completely different direction last year, so the book publishing went on the back burner. And now I think it might have to go on the back burner again. Which, my ego feels is a form of "failure," or "laziness." But in reality, I can't possibly do the things I want to with that manuscript while developing my business and working my full-time job. Not to mention ... having a social life, dating and spending quality time with my pets (who are getting older and older every day, making each moment I spend with them that much more precious) and my family.

Because the reality is, the biggest "pull" I feel right now is in the direction of my yoga teaching, getting organized, truly doing the best I can in that area to help it flourish ... otherwise I feel like it's going to suffer, the way other areas have suffered that I haven't paid attention to.

It's like lighting several fires and only having enough oxygen and fuel for a few of them. The others slowly die as a result. They turn into embers and eventually ... ashes.

So, my point ... the thing I wanted to share in the hopes others might benefit as well, is simple. If you find yourself trying to do a million things at once — pause. Take a moment, perhaps write them all down and decide what the top three priorities are (as my best friend Katie Khoury recently reminded me to do). Don't disregard the rest altogether, but put them aside for now and pull together all of your energy, harness it and focus it on those three areas ... don't resist "what is," don't think about getting to this and that in the future ... stay present with those three things and focus on each individual step as you reach it in the "here and now."

It seems to help me feel less overwhelmed. And when life starts pulling you in a bunch of different directions again and the universe is telling you to "slow down," listen. Take a step back, refocus on that list and begin once more. You might not realize it at first (I know I didn't), but suddenly you'll witness things just take off. If you're putting your energy into the flow and not against it, things will just happen. But don't lose your nerve, or your breath. And don't let fear stop you either.

Always keep breathing. And eventually, you'll see how quickly you cross all of those things off your list and continue down it to the rest. I've had some recently packed weeks and weekends. And my body has finally made me pay for not taking down time.

A question hit me in that moment: How can I possibly teach yoga to all my students and grow and develop as a teacher as well as an ever-learning student when I'm not taking time to practice for myself?

So, I'm on a journey to regain some balance in my life, to weed out the things that are sucking energy and replace them with a more narrowed focus on the things that nourish and produce energy ... like my yoga teaching, meditation, making time for my own personal sadhana (daily again, the way I used to practice it), reading, sketching, playing guitar and piano ... spending some more time with my grandmother and those sustaining forces in my life. And spending less time on things that aren't necessarily "bad" things, but just time-consuming things that perhaps I'll get to another time.

I implore you to take this journey with me — those of you who wear many hats and feel out of balance. Let me know how you are faring. And remember, I'm always here to listen if you ever need me.

Love,

~C~

Winter Blues Chasers, Piano Music, Memory Loss

It's been ... well, about three months since I last posted.

It wasn't writer's block, per se. More like, everything I've been feeling inside has been marinating gently in the backdrop of my life, waiting for a time when it was ready to emanate.

And yet, I'm not sure it will all lay itself out here tonight. In fact, I know it won't. But that's OK ... I gotta start somewhere don't I?

It's a Sunday night ... and anyone who's followed my writing over the last two years or knows me at all, knows my relationship with Sunday nights ... especially cold, wintry Sunday nights.

But, perhaps because my entire perspective on life has shifted greatly in the last two years or maybe I'm just more comfortable in my own skin for the first time in ... well, possibly ever, I have learned to make friends with Sunday nights. In fact, I've learned to make friends with winter. I have learned to chase its bitterness with breath and peace, to counter its hits with a few of my own. And to envelop it when I feel as though I've had enough.

Because winter is not just about death, hibernation, dormancy ... it's also about rebirth, transformation and the peaceful quiet within the stillness.

The funny thing is, the year I decide to do this of course is one of the harshest winters of my entire life, at least cold-wise. The snow (besides driving in it) has never really bothered me. It's the darkness, the constant darkness and the cold, the kind that steals your breath and never gives it back entirely.

However, besides a few bumps here and there, a few challenges Old Man Winter has given me this season, I've rolled with the punches and embraced the bruises. I think it's a combination of now having many many "healthy" tools to choose from to fight my depressive episodes, maybe it's because I've learned to love myself, including my flaws and my sadness, my fears, my smiles and tears. I've learned to be kinder to myself ... to listen to music again, to play piano and listen to piano and violin compilations with the fervor I used to as a child and teenager, to smile as I watch the snowflakes fall ... to look at my dog, who is older and grayer now, with such love, appreciation and gratitude for the time I have with him, to caress Bella, my faithful, purring, wise green-eyed feline and take in the moments she offers.

The energies I've drawn into my life in the last year have been very precious and meaningful ... the connections I've had for some time that had grown and flourished with me, I feel that much more grateful for. And those that have come and gone, I find myself loving them still, feeling each of them in my heart every single day.

Last November, I said goodbye to my 20s ... and I did so with mixed emotions. That decade was a whirlwind roller coaster, and the force behind it peeled every single layer off my body and left me wondering who the hell I ever was. That decade I floated, I fell, I rose up again, I got lost, I got found ... and I crawled back into my shell. And then I curled up with my transformation ... and I let go.

I took a trip to Romania ... took a trip on my own, to my roots. I took a trip for my soul.

The self discovery continues and is an adventure worth every up and down. I'm excited to see where my yoga teaching takes me, where finally getting my book self published and out there for whoever cares to take a dive into takes me, where my work, my personal life, my dreams ... my loves ... take me. It's not about waiting for some future moment, it's about completely loving every moment of the journey as it happens.

And lastly ... I have come face-to-face with the reality that someone very, very close to me, is losing a piece of herself more and more as the days go by. My grandmother, perhaps one of my biggest soul mates, is losing her memory. If counseling and yoga has taught me anything, it's that life is never linear and it is never just roses and smiles, that sadness and challenges and pain are a part of life and you can't truly live life without it all.

Seeing her, spending time with her has become a priority in my life more now than ever before. It's hard, being across town, working full time and teaching yoga on the side not to mention an active social life ... but if not now, when? There is always time for things, it's there, you just have to get out of your own way and carve it out.

There will be more on this topic ... I don't honestly have it in me tonight to delve in. All I will say is, my grandma, even now, teaches me. She teaches me to live in the present, to enjoy my moments with her, to be grateful for the memories we've shared, the stories she's told me  — her life stories — to cherish what I have, because one day it won't be as it is now. Everything changes. Everything.

And with that, I'll leave you with a poem that comes to mind ... one to curl up with on these cold winter nights ...

THE GUEST HOUSE

This being human is a guest house.

Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,

some momentary awareness comes

as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!

Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,

who violently sweep your house

empty of its furniture,

still, treat each guest honorably.

He may be clearing you out

for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice.

meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.

Be grateful for whatever comes.

because each has been sent

as a guide from beyond.

~ Jelaluddin Rumi,

    translation by Coleman Barks

 Love,

~C~

Family, Crying and Unconditional Love

Saturday afternoon, we arrived in Fagaras, a city near my mom's village, Vistea de Jos. My cousin, Rosmina, who has been my generous host this trip, grew up in Fagaras with her sister, Anca.

My aunt Dorina greeted us with so much enthusiasm and eagerness to please, I can't fully capture it here. But I'll try.

When you walk into a Romanian household, especially here, you're hugged and kissed on both cheeks and you're automatically taken to a seated area with a table ;-) And then you're fed. But you're not just offered what we would consider normal hors d'oeuvres. You're given a few courses. You're given wine too, maybe some Romanian liqueur. And of course, some coffee.

You're asked numerous times if you're doing OK, if you've had enough, if you're tired, cold, need anything at all, if you've eaten enough, want more, and so on.

It can be overwhelming, but in a wonderful way. At least to me. Because it's not that way in the U.S., at least not in general. My mom is this way and I always used to yell at her to quit being so stressed out with guests and so pushy with food. But I get it now. It's custom. It's just the way it is here. At least with my family :-)



But here's the part that got to me ... and got to me hard.

When I walked into my family members' homes (I visited quite a few), I was greeted by such immense warmth, love and ... I can't even quite place it, maybe an admiration, as though being looked over, looked through, studied and embraced all at once. I haven't been here to see some of these family members in 18 years. I've grown quite a bit from 11-year-old, tom-boy, running after the animals Cassandra.

I visited my mom's brother-in-law, Demetriu. He'd had a stroke not long ago and was not able to talk much or move much. I walked into the room, he saw me and he started to cry. Maybe it's because he saw my mother's face in me. Maybe it's because he remembered me at 11 years old, riding his horse. Maybe he just was sad he couldn't greet me properly. But it went straight through me.

We couldn't stay long. And it occurred to me I might never see him again. So I grabbed his hand, I squeezed it hard, said goodbye ... exhaled and we left.

We then visited my mom's sister, Tori, in Victoria. She was considered the "Black Sheep" in the family, the one who was a bit rebellious, was always funny and always made everyone laugh, especially my mom and I. She hugged me long and hard and cracked jokes. She, of course, gave me food. She called me her baby, told me she loved me. And then we were back on the road to Fagaras.

On Sunday, we left for Vistea.

I walked into my mom's church, which was so much more breathtaking than I remembered at 11. The rich colors in the murals cascading down the walls, the intricately painted ceiling and candle-lit crimson carpets were glorious.

Suddenly, I became the talk of the people. And I felt immediately self conscious. Understand, these villages are small and everyone literally knows everyone, so seeing a new person walk in is immediately noticed.

Slowly, people came over to our group, asking who I was. A few women, old friends of my mother, came up to me, touching my face and gazing into my eyes, motioning to my aunt and cousins how much I resembled my mom ... "Cornelia."

They squeezed my hand, kissed my cheeks, touched my hair and told me I was beautiful. I blushed and said "Multumesc" (thank you) over and over and over again, not knowing what else to really say. We stopped by the cemetery behind the church to see my mom's parents' graves ... as well as her sister's grave and her cousin's grave, both who passed before their time.

Then we visited my mom's eldest sister, Chevuca. She's been sick with diabetes and a hip replacement. She saw me ... and she started crying. She hugged and kissed me and called me her love. She couldn't say much, but I reminded her of when I was last there and I was sick in bed. My parents were gone at that time (visiting another city). My aunt came into my room with rubbing alcohol and a hot washcloth and she rubbed my arms, legs, neck and face ... just the way my mom did when I was a kid. And it made the flu body aches disappear. And it made me feel like home.

She teared up.

We then called my mom (it was her birthday Sunday). And the first thing my aunt said was "Mi-e dor de tine" ... I miss you.

She hugged me close before I left. I said we (my parents, brother, sister-in-law and myself) would hopefully be coming back in two years. She said she hopes to still be here.

We didn't let her finish. We said she better be here. I let that wish fill my heart, especially for my mom's sake, and then I let it go.

We said our goodbyes a bit later, after I walked the family farm, drawing in the sweet scent of thousands of grapevines above me, begging to be picked, yearning to be ground up and bottled for wine.

I recalled chasing the animals, I recalled my grandma working in the fields behind the barn and I reacquainted myself with Rego, my uncle's horse I fell off of when I was younger. He was much sweeter this go around :-) He let me pet him for quite some time.

We visited a few more family members and curious neighbors. They all looked at me, saw my mother's eyes, cheekbones, nose and smiled.

I talked to my cousin about it later. She told me, it says a lot about my mom, the way people responded to seeing me, to seeing her in me.

I'm pretty sure when I share this with my mom, she will cry.

Between learning more about the history of this country, my family and culture as well as reconnecting with my cousins and aunts and uncles, I feel I couldn't want for more in this moment.

I see so much of myself in my cousins and so much of my mother in my aunts, it amazes me. I don't want to leave them ... not after just feeling I've gotten to really know them.

I suppose I now know what this feels like. What being torn between one life and another feels like.

I also now have a sense of completion in some way. Not as though I don't have more to learn and discover, but a sense that this other part of my life, of myself — a part that has been primarily in the dark over the years —is suddenly lit.

And I don't know what else to do with myself ... but smile.

~C~

Peering Inside Castles, Digging into Roots

So, Peles Castle ... amazing. It's architecture, woodwork, design and furnishings had influences from all over the world, including France, Spain, Asia, England, Germany and Russia.

The weapons display and armor were breathtaking and overwhelming to say the least. I snapped a few photos as I was able to (we had to pay extra to take pictures so I snuck some ;-), but really, they won't do it justice.

I was enamored of every single room inside that place. It took over 40 years to complete and just the woodwork alone must have taken a brunt of that time to produce. I am truly humbled by the fact I was able to see this place, to take this trip really ... all of it.

And Queen Elizabeth ... she really intrigued me. She was a writer :-) so maybe that's why. She wrote 43 books, she knew over 7 languages and also played the piano and organ (I think she played a few other instruments as well). She was beautiful inside and out.

I think Romania has a knack for producing artists. The famous composer George Enescu also has a home in Sinaia (where Peles is). We passed it. He has a few homes in the country. But his compositions are quite beautiful and his violin play is amazing.

Then we went to Bran Castle. It was quite different from Peles, but in a very cool way. It was a gothic style castle, originally built in the 12th Century. It is also known as the castle that influenced Brom Stoker's "Dracula," along with Vlad Tepes (the Impaler).



Unfortunately, during the communist period, a lot of the original furnishings were taken from the castle — which was built as a fortress (aka. not meant to be glamorous) — so most of what was in there were furnishings of that time period meant to mimic what was once there.

Queen Marie, who lived here, was also talented and intelligent, an artist. In her will, she had her heart preserved and it eventually was kept at Bran Castle, however, after the communist period, it was removed and is now at the National Museum of Romanian History (which I will see on Wednesday). It remains a controversial topic.


While different from Peles, Bran  had a definite air of royalty surrounding it, but a darker one, perhaps a bit colder. It seemed sadder inside somehow, the energy there.

It wasn't warm and plush like Peles. It felt royal in a different way, a fiercer, stronger way, whereas Peles felt more majestic, like a fairytale really. I could only imagine being a princess in that castle, wearing a lavish dress, swishing across those posh, red rugs and silk spun carpets from Spain.

Sigh ...

I could go on and on, but lets just say, if you ever visit Romania, these are two places to definitely stop. The abyss of history is far too deep for me to dive into in one blog post.

We went to Brasov, one of the four major cities in Romania and quite beautiful. I will try to have more on that next post as well as more on my mom's village, Vistea de Jos and Fagaras, where my aunt Dorina lives as well as the Monastery of Simbata de Sus.

Unlike my other travels to Europe in the past, this one is different in so many ways. I think perhaps the biggest reason is I'm seeing the way my mom grew up, the way my family, both my mom's and on my dad's side, grew up. My family is so warm and welcoming, so generous and eager to please and love and care ... it fills me with emotions I find hard to express.

My roots, my heritage and the traditions my mom instilled in me throughout my life have become so much more animated, so much stronger during this trip. I want to embrace so many more things, things I didn't realize were in me. And the language, the way it's coming back to me, how much more I understand than I gave myself credit for.

When I was a kid, I would often be "embarrassed" about my Romanian dancing, some of the traditions, etc. I was a kid and wanted to "fit in" with all the other kids. But in the recent years, I've grown to truly appreciate my heritage, my family, our history and my culture.

I am proud and yet humbled to be here, to be able to soak up this history and my family. I see a lot more of myself and my mom, my dad's family and our characteristics in my family members and cousins here than I could have imagined. I absolutely love it.

And I love sharing it with you all. I wish I could place what's in my heart right now in this blog, in you all.

But I suppose photos and words will have to do ...

Love,

~C~